The Darkest Year
by KillTheLights95
Summary: A collection of one-shots following various characters during the 1997-1998 period. Written for owluvr's Character Diversity Boot Camp Challenge.


_**This story is written for owluvr's Character Diversity Boot Camp Challenge. It will be a collection of one-shots all taking place between 1997 and 1998. Most will take place during the action in the book, although there may be a few one-shots (like this first one) that take place after the Battle of Hogwarts. I really hope you enjoy this story!**_

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, because if I did, Sirius and Remus would still be alive. I've still not gotten over that.**_

(1)

(forgotten)

_ceased or failed to remember; be unable to recall_

Ginny Weasley

_8__th__ May 1998_

They returned to their home weary and quiet. Her dad departed to the kitchen to make some tea, while the rest settled in the living room, all lost in their own thoughts. Ginny didn't much feel like attempting to break the silence, so she sat on the carpet, head resting against Harry's knees, her red hair draped carelessly over her shoulder. She did not want to look at her mother, who was curled in her armchair, tears steadily dripping down her face, or George, who had shut himself in his room again.

Her dad returned bearing several cups of tea, which flew to each member of the living room with a flick of his wand. He looked as if he'd aged twenty years overnight, and Ginny guessed that he hadn't been sleeping. She wasn't surprised; she didn't think anyone had been sleeping recently.

The service had been too quiet, Ginny thought, as everyone fussed about unnecessarily with their tea, just for something to do. Had Fred been there, he would have laughed in their faces; he would have snuck Puking Pastilles into their sandwiches; he would have bestowed Headless Hats on all the guests; he would have unleashed a box of fireworks as they'd lowered the coffin.

And suddenly a wickedly brilliant idea came to her.

She leapt to her feet automatically, and everyone turned to look at her. "Sorry," she said. "I need to go and get something."

Before anyone could ask her what she was doing, she had bounded out of the room and up the stairs two at a time. In her room, she sank onto the floor and began rummaging around underneath her bed, unearthing old Christmas jumpers and broken quills, textbooks and sweet wrappers. And finally, right up against the wall, was a faded, crumbling box. With a triumphant grin, she pulled it towards her.

"What are you doing?" She almost banged her head off the bedframe; she had not heard George enter the room behind her. Dragging the box with her, she turned to face him, and with tremendous effort (as the box was very heavy), she lifted it upwards so he could see the insignia emblazoned on the side. George wore a bemused expression.

"Where'd you get that?" he asked gruffly.

"You left it here," she answered as he began to rifle through the box's contents. "I found it at Christmastime and thought it might come in useful. I'd completely forgotten about it to be honest."

Right at the bottom of the box, George pulled out a crumpled package. A label on top identified it as 'Weasleys' Wildfire Whiz-bangs'. A sad little smile appeared on his face.

"I don't think this should go to waste, should it?" asked Ginny with a mischievous smile.

"Quite right, little sister," he replied, and Ginny heard a trace of laughter in his voice like she had not heard in over a week. "What's the point in dying if you don't go out with a bang?"

And suddenly, Ginny was laughing. They ripped open the packaging and as Ginny opened the window, George unleashed a Whiz-bang. With a whoosh and a bang, it exploded into a large golden dragon, which roared and bellowed yellow flames from its mouth. Ginny ran downstairs, where everyone was on their feet, looking confused. Without preamble, Ginny raised the box she still held in her arms and said, "Fireworks."

It seemed to be the magic word; suddenly, everyone was rushing outside, grabbing fireworks and launching them in the air. George was still poised at Ginny's window, tossing them outside. She found her mother's side; she still had tears in her eyes but she looked more relaxed. Without a word, she pulled Ginny into her arms. "Thank you, Ginny," she whispered into her hair.

"Of course," she replied softly, and they turned together to watch the lights flourish in the sky. And for the first time, Ginny felt that this day was complete; she would not remember it being sad. She would remember the fireworks blazing across the horizon, her lost brother reincarnated in his proudest invention; gone, but never forgotten.

* * *

**Author's Note: I'm not particularly happy with the ending, but it seemed an appropriate saying (even if it is incredibly cheesy).**


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